Martin Eden

I admired my Italian ancestors' cornering the neorealism market with such classics as Vittorio De Sica's The Bicycle Thief (1948). Now going nose to nose with those masters is director Pietro Marcello's neo-neorealist Martin Eden, frame for frame a joy in brilliant cinematography that combines color and black and white, but most importantly tells of a mid-twentieth century lusty young Italian sailor, Martin (Luca Marinelli, handsomer than all of us) with aspirations to write.

Marcello and screenwriter Maurizio Braucci have adapted Jack London's 1909 story in his robust, populist way to show the proletariat's struggles with the privileged to become educated and accomplished. Placing ambitious Martin in mid-twentieth century allows him to rant against the weaknesses of socialism and collectivism to favor evolutionary individualism.

As in the case of struggling artists everywhere with no formal education and a populace demeaning rugged individualism, Martin's journey to becoming a famous writer begins with patronage of the very class he rails against in his stories. Ironically, the education he lacks can be offered by his lover, Elena (Jessica Cressy), from the upper class. She demands he be a provider and get thoroughly educated. Easy for her to say.

The strength of this story is Martin's belief in his talent and persistence in the face of prejudice against his impoverished background. That Martin becomes more famous for his belief in the individualism of Herbert Spencer's social Darwinism is another block to attaining the respect as a writer he believes he's due.

Martin Eden is luscious with contentious social history and struggles of an artist who rises above his limitations not without the pain and loss that accompany ambition and art. The acting is as realistic as neorealism can allow when actors, not amateurs, play the parts. Actor Marinelli is up to the challenge: While remaining matinee idol in looks, he translates the burden of artistry in troubled times, or any time actually. Martin Eden is a classy European, neorealist experience. Learn about artistry, history, and human dignity.

... in which we are born and moulded without recourse or consultation - as we get older, others may influence and change our direction, sow new seeds, broaden horizons, gouge new scars. We may even become better for it but occasionally we may not and more often than not, we won't even know how we got here.

Much of "Martin Eden" is quite good, but I simply got tired of this movie by the time it was over. Luca Marinelli is excellent but exhausting as the title character, a struggling writer who champions freedom of the individual in a country (Italy) whose working class population advocates for socialism. His ideas make him unpopular with just about everybody -- he's not socialist enough for the working class, but he's too critical of the wealthy to be accepted by the rich family of the woman he loves. He becomes a hugely successful writer, but a mess of a person.

"Martin Eden" doesn't take place in any specific time period, or rather it takes place across all time periods, a nod I suppose to the fact that the conflict between those who are wealthy and those who are not has been and will be with us forever. It also examines the role art and artists play in shaping cultural and political thought. It's an artful movie, but it overstays its welcome. Martin Eden is an intense character and not an especially pleasant one to spend time with, and good as Marinelli is, he can't save the last third or so of the movie from being a bit of a slog.

Grade: B

Pros: Great photography, successful original mix of new and old footage, entertaining.

Cons: Everything goes well, until halfway the film gets to the essence of things. That is when the contradiction starts, disappointing superficial (childish) arguments empty of essence, and the poor viewer who identified with the main character, feels betrayed up until the pointless unoriginal ending of the movie.

In short, it's a self-contradicting film based on the flawed approach of the original author of the novel (Jack London) who even admitted "I must have bungled it", and was made worse by the filmmaker. The writers (the director Pietro Marcello along with Maurizio Braucci ) even added a known politically misleading cliche-phrase as-a-fact, -that doesn't exist on the book, and is worth mentioning here since the movie has a pseudo-political narrative: "Philosophy was born because the Ancient Greeks were able to avoid physical labor thanks to their slaves who allowed them to devote themselves exclusively to thought."

-Why then philosophy wasn't born somewhere else, where slavery was flourishing in the whole known world for centuries? -Why philosophy that set man on its center for the first time in history, was born after democracy was invented and established for the first (and only) time and shifted all power to the people? -Why philosophy was born on a state that gave the slaves more privileges than the privileges of the citizens of the rest of the world, and conversion of a citizen to slave was prohibited by law (and all slaves were foreigners brought from abroad and had equal rights with every citizen except voting)? So, was philosophy born due to the slaves in Ancient Athens, or due to the fact that democracy freed thought for the first time, logic and rhetoric was born, schools of thought, that attracted all wise men from around the world to see, learn and contribute to the "miracle"?

So, please try not to parrot false, misleading cliche, especially the ones about history, it's neither good for you, or your viewers.

I left the cinema with a strong emotional bond with the protagonist. The story seems to surface from a documentary, with several reference to post-ww2 Italy: music, people, strip of homemade tapes. But the pace, the rhythm, the editing, is not a documentary one, it sometime remembers a music-clip. The more you sip form the environment, the more its flavour changes, because the situation changes, and so does the main actor. It is really easy to bend to its arch, and little by little you find yourself absorbed into his prospective, his vision, his twists.